


Little Nook's

by yourteethinmyneck



Category: Paramore
Genre: AU, Here we fuckin go I GUESS, High Fidelity, Multi, New York City, Zaylor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23304655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourteethinmyneck/pseuds/yourteethinmyneck
Summary: Taylor York, the owner of a struggling record store, is revisiting his past relationships and heartbreak endeavors with pop culture and music. All in an effort to get over his one true love.(this storyline is heavily inspired/based on the hulu show "High Fidelity" starring Zoe Kravitz and others, It's such a good show 10/10 and I felt compelled to do this for Zaylor. Enjoy.)
Relationships: Cristal Ramirez/Katie Henderson, John O'Callaghan/Hayley Williams, Zac Farro/Taylor York
Kudos: 3





	1. Top 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what have we done now?  
> track(s) of the chapter: Late Night by Tennis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am so excited for this! I've been obsessed with the Hulu series High Fidelity for the past few months and decided why the fuck not try this. If you haven't I highly suggest watching it. So, obviously this part is pulled essentially directly from the show but I will be changing/putting my own spin on things for the rest of the chapters/story from here on out. So, here's the preface/introduction!

My desert island “All-Time Top Five Most Memorable Heartbreaks” in chronological order as follows; Ashley Bannister, Dominic Monroe, Hayley Miller, Justin Kitt…

“Okay, that’s everything I think.” he says, pulling his leather jacket up over his shoulders.

“I mean you don’t have to go right this second.” I try to argue.

I can feel my air become thick and heavy, at least heavier than it had been the past few days. The pink walls feel like witnesses to the crimes committed. I sink a little deeper into the faux velvet mustard chair, more so mentally than physically.

“I know, but, I think it’s best if I do so…”

As much as I’ve tried to maintain my “brand” of being an apathetic douchebag, my emotions say otherwise as my tear ducts welt up. There’s a familiar feeling of tightness in my throat and- fuck.

“Just stay for the night.” I persist.

“No.” he shoots me down.

“Okay, just stay for a drink then.”

“No, I don’t think a drink’s gonna do it, Taylor.”

It feels similar to a dull knife that’s been going back and forth to finally break the skin. I don’t even realize I shoot out of the chair and approach him frantically.

“Yeah, how about, how about two drinks?” fuck, I’ve reached frantic.

“Jesus Christ, can we just make this just a little bit easy, please?” he now faces me glaring at me in frustration.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this inconvenient for you?” my throat hitches once more.

The silence between us feels like minutes, hours, even days. I can see his eyebrows furrow and mouth move as if to say something, yet nothing comes out. He adjusts the burlap sack over his shoulder and clears his throat.

“You know what? I’m just gonna go, alright?” he seems to ask, a question with no answer.

He turns his back to me, approaching the front door. My feet are like drying glue in how slow, yet fast I try to chase after him as I hear the deadbolt and locks turn.

“Wait, Zac.” my voice cracks even speaking his name...fuck.

“What?” he stops, swinging the door wide open.

It’s as if the static around my brain becomes clear and broadcast, the room goes dark around me and the spotlight off those game shows shines down on me.

“We’re on the wrong side of the rock.” I take a sharp inhale and bite the inside of my cheeks as a couple of tears fall down my face.

“Tay, don’t start.” Zac just shakes his head and looks out into the stairwell.

“Remember?” I try.

More silence follows, even the beeping cars and yells from the street go silent. Zac looks down at his feet and sighs.

“Remember when we were in the park and we were listening to Talking Heads and...we were having such a nice day, and that stupid fucking couple on the other side of the rock was just screaming at eachother the whole time?” I start spilling, more tears following.

“Yeah…I remember” is all he says, shrugging and waiting for something else here.

“We- we promised..? You know, we promised that if we ever found ourselves on that side of the rock that we would remind each other to come back…to our side of the rock, right?”

“Yeah...yeah we did.” he admits, as if in a little defeat.

“So...this is me reminding you…” I shrug and wipe a couple of stray tears remaining.

“Yeah, whatever. I remember. I just...uh, I just can’t remember what it felt like, T.”

It’s then I can feel whatever remaining false hope I held sink to my stomach, a burning sensation back in my eyes as I try to pull my head together for coherent words and thoughts.

“Right..” is all I can muster, studying the floorboards and feeling his eyes on me still.

“I’m gonna go, ‘cause- uh...I’ll see ya.” he steps out of the apartment and lifts his suitcase up.

For a second it feels like he’s going to say “just kidding” or say something to fix it all. But, he simply reaches and pulls the door close, a small slam that echoes into my brain. Everything is at a halt, it’s so sudden I’m processing the empty space where he just stood. There’s distant footsteps down the hall of tile steps.

My eyes search every inch of the room for a second as I turn back to the living room. I don’t want to, but my nose itches and I give it a tiny rub before noticing how my eyes are just streaming. I try rubbing my eyes to make it shut off, I let out a choked noise as I go back to the mustard chair.

Lots of quiet sobbing, as I tilt my head up at the white ceiling. It’s a lot easier, to me, to feel everything when staring at nothing.

Congratulations...you’ve made it to the Top Five, Zac. Number Five...with a bullet. Welcome.


	2. Back on the Horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year and some change post-Zac. Taylor tries to get back on the horse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highkey rushed the second half of this chapter so my apologies if it was sorta boring and/or poorly written I just like NEEDED to get this done and make room for more. enjoy!

There’s nothing even remotely exciting about Tuesday. It’s not the start, middle, or the end of the week. It’s essentially a day of limbo with hints of zest here and there, credits to the state of my insomnia right now. I don’t have to open the shop till 10 and my body, regardless of what I want and try to do, will wake up at 8 am every morning. 

So, as I sat sunken into my armchair drinking my cup of black coffee and rolling up a morning joint, my last desire was to speak to another human being yet. Of course, as the Pixies record (Surfer Rosa OG pressing) spun and the caffeine began to hit my bloodstream my phone rings. Not my phone, but like, my landline phone- if you’re wondering WHY I still have a landline, I don’t know maybe I just enjoy shit that makes me nostalgic. Or, some stupid shit like that, something I wouldn’t say outloud to another person. 

“Hello?” I answer, throat croaking with my first word of the day. 

“What’s UP!” the other end says. 

Ah yes, Cristal.

“What’s up, Cris, what you doing?” I ask, perhaps in a slightly annoyed tone. 

“Nothin’ much, we’re just coming back from Mom and Dad’s right now. Mom gave us a BUNCH of your old baby shit” she says. 

“Consider that your shower gift.” I laugh, lighting up the joint. 

“Aht aht- didn’t you hear? There’s not going to be a shower. We’re in complete and utter denial that this baby is even coming.” another voice chimes in. 

“Hi, Katie!” I perk up a little, taking a sharp inhale. 

“Hi, angel.” Katie responds. 

“Uh, yeah, so, hey, Mom said she hadn’t talked to you in a while. She wanted me to call and, you know, see if you’re alive and-”

“Happily married with four kids and a golden retriever? Lemme check!” 

“Haha, this guy with the jokes! I get it. But, seriously, uh, tonight, I’m going for drinks with my girl Jessica. Did you ever meet Jessica?” Cristal continues. 

“She’s cute!!” Katie exclaims.

“Are you really trying to set me up with one of your friends right now, Cris? It’s not even 9 a.m. yet, and historically speaking that shit doesn’t work out.” I say amazed, letting the big exhale of smoke out and coughing a little. 

“No, I know! It’s just...it’s been over a year, I just feel like maybe it’s time to ‘get back on the horse’ or whatever.” she trails off and I roll my eyes. 

“Oh, hey, Mom! Didn’t know you were in the car with them!” I joke.

“Yeah, yeah, okay don’t do all that. I tried.” Cris retreats. 

“You don’t have to try shit. I’m completely fine! I actually have a date tonight, so...you know...” I attempt to persuade, earning a genuine chuckle from the other end of the call.

“No you don’t.” Cristal snickers. 

“Yes- yes I do...I really do, Cris.”

“Wait- do you really have a-” 

“Yeah, and I have to go, I’ve gotta get ready for my date. Okay bye.” I sigh.

“No- Wait!!” Cris screams as the phone clicks onto the receiver. 

I sit in silence for a moment and stare at the shag rug at my feet. I could have a date, if I wanted. I could. I turn to glance out across the street to the other homes and watch as an older woman with gray hair puffs on a cigarette and slouches at the window. 

Yeah. I could have a date, and I want to. ‘Cause I’m all good. So...I’m totally fine.

Yeah. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
You know how you want to tell people “I told you so”, but don’t want to seem like an asshole? Well, from me to myself; I fucking told you so. This is fucked and I’m not fine. But, I guess there’s nothing I can do now as I sit across from the young woman in the local bar I’ve spent too much money at. 

“Yeah, so I’ve just come back from Paris. I, uh, sort of have always wanted to live in New York City, but, I’ve had a place in Philadelphia for a bit now..” the woman says, pulling me from my self analyze session.

She continues to explain the origins of how she came to be sitting across from a random man in a hole in the wall in Brooklyn. I feel pretty bad, she’s really a sweet person and seems really interesting. I just...this is just me being bored at this point. 

“Cool, yeah...cool, cool, cool, cool…” I nod, giving a smile as I fiddle with the glass of rum in my hands. 

“Yeah, it’s been pretty good. The drive up here wasn’t too bad and I got to watch the sunset while heading into the city, which made driving the uhaul slightly less terrifying.” she continues. 

“Mhm...yeah…” I hope I’m not trying too hard. 

“Yeah it reminds me of the afternoons in Paris in the summer, it’s so beautiful and my old flat there had this balcony facing the westside and it's just gorgeous...” 

There’s a shared silence between us for a moment, some obnoxious country song playing from across the room from an old jukebox. I stick my tongue to my teeth, contemplating what, if anything, I should say or do next. A good seventy five percent of me wants to magically transport back to my bed, fifteen percent of me wants to try and find a spark, and the other ten percent wants to order another round. 

“Uh, what happened to your hand.” she points as I glance at my slightly bloody knuckle. 

Look, I had forgotten to even clean my hand let alone take note that I was still feeling the rawness of the cuts. I’m not a serial killer, I’m not insane, to make a long story short I just happened to run into an old friend on the way over here. 

Well, now that I put it like that, the me-not-being-insane argument seems as strong as cardboard. Let me rephrase, as in, I was minding my business coming here and got sideswiped by a bicyclist. Also, I ran into an old friend. They don’t correlate, I promise.   
“Oh, uh, delivery bike dude on my way here, yeah. It was...yeah.” I tell her. 

“What, uh, happened?” she raises an eyebrow and, again, I look suspicious. 

“It was just, like, an accident thing. Uh- I’m gonna go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” I force a half smile and scoot out of the booth. 

She just nods and assures me she’ll “be here” waiting for me. I scramble into the dirty bathroom, faded green tiles and floral wallpaper. The doors bolt hangs on for dear life as I shut it locked and let out a fat sigh. The lights above the sink buzz obnoxiously and I mentally run through a clipboard of ideas of how to get out of this situation as quickly and cost efficiently as possible. 

Lie about a family emergency? Nah- too shitty, plus what if karma comes for me and really does some shit to my family? Minor emergency? Like...I forgot to take my dog to the vet or something? No, that’s fucking stupid, it’s eight o’clock at night and I don’t have a dog. Uh…

Well...I could just...sneak out? Criss crossed the bar out of her eyesight and back into the crowds of the night. It’s shitty, for sure. But, it’s not like I have to talk to her again and it’s really saving the both of us in the end, I mean come on. Yeah. This is good, right? 

I take a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror for a second. It could be the lighting, but I look sort of hot and sort of terrible. Oh well, like I said I’m saving her and me from a disaster by doing this. Out I tip toe quickly, peering for just a second to see her back facing me, long blonde hair sitting at her shoulders. 

I find myself back on the street not a moment later, sighing in relief this time as I walk back towards my apartment. Again, like I said, she seems like a really sweet girl and this is a total asshole move from me. But, I’m not ready. I’m not, you know...ready? 

The walk to freedom lasts all of half a block when I reach into my back pocket for my phone. Plot twist is...there’s no phone. Fuck. Fuck. Okay, fine. Remember how I said some shit about karma earlier...that’s this. Maybe, I don’t fucking know. 

Cars beep and people yell across the street to others, and I just do a 360 and make haste back to the bar. It’s sort of like a reverse walk of shame, except you aren’t hungover and you haven’t had sex and sort of want to cry. However, I regress back to the booth, slipping in and out of the bathroom real quick just for the full effect so it’s not super suspicious. 

“Hey, you!” I say as I wipe my (pretend) wet hands on my jeans and slide back into the booth. 

“Hey, was starting to think you left me for a second there.” she plays, and it seems like she probably knows. 

“NO- no, it’s just-” 

I try to give a little bit of honesty by talking with my hands, a bad habit, and knock my (almost) full rum glass over. The loud clunk earns a few turned heads and I frantically try to wipe the mess with the tiny cocktail napkin. Why the fuck are these things so useless? They’re just for show for a bunch of pretentious dickheads. Who even uses these things? Pretentious dickheads. Who is a pretentious dickhead? Me, I’m the pretentious dickhead. 

I try to “it’s fine” my way through the mess, apologizing profusely as I mop up the rum and my knuckle stings a little as I get some on the open wound. She’s now just watching as I collect the soaked napkins in a pile by my, now found from being M.I.A., phone and wallet.

Wow, I really am an idiot she could have taken my whole identity if I’d walked a couple more blocks.

“Hey, look! I mean- it’s not easy. See.” she speaks before knocking over her (much less full) glass and giving a chuckle.

“Oh my god!” we laugh as I pick the glass up. 

“Well…” 

“Thank you.” I beam. 

“Look, do you want another round?” she points back to the bar. 

“Yeah. I’d like that.” is all I can get out as she nods and makes her way to fetch more alcohol. 

So...yeah here we are now and this is pretty fun. And, no, that’s not just the whiskey neat talking. She- Well I guess I should call her by her name, Dua is really sweet and sort of dorky in a cute way. There’s witty banter and it sort of feels...exciting? 

“So, you own a record shop?” she asks. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Oh, that’s cool!”

“Yeaaah, it’s, uh, not as glamorous as it sounds.” I admit. 

“It sounds really cool. It sounds cool...uh question?” she asks.

“Answer.” I clear my throat, is this when she says something I hate to hear?

“If I were to admit out loud to you right now that I truly, no joke, love this song...would you get up and leave?” She speaks slowly.

“Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac was playing from the jukebox across the room from us. I almost laughed a little, raising my eyebrow at her before speaking. 

“Hell, I love this song. This is a great song.” 

“All right, good, yeah.” I watch as she takes another sip of her drink in relief. 

“I don’t love Rumors as a whole..” I continue. 

“Okay, fair.” 

“I’m more of a Tusk guy myself...which is controversial, I know.” 

“Yeah, no doubt.” she laughs. 

“No, like Rumors is cool, they're cool. I mean, The Chain, which is sick.” 

“Right, of course.” 

“Don’t Stop is more like no, stop, please, stop. And, Second Hand News, yes.” 

“Yes, right. Yeah, I’m more of a Tango in the Night kinda girl myself.” Dua perks up, most definitely best she interrupts my music snobbiness. 

“Ah, a woman of taste I see.” 

“Yeah, but I have to admit I’m not a total fan of Everywhere.” 

“Alright, well in that case, it’s been real I’m heading out!” I poke my leg out of the booth to tease. 

“Oh come! It’s not a bad song! I just have to be in the mood for it.” she insists, slapping my hand playfully. 

“Nah, I’m leaving, goodnight.” I egg on.

“Oh no, well this was amazing, thank you so much kind sir.” She plays along. 

“I’m gonna jet, I’m gonna jet!” 

We both laugh, not that it’s even that funny. I roll my eyes and throw the rest of the whiskey in my glass back before trying to switch gears. 

“No, seriously, though, I think I’m gonna, um, I’m gonna go.” I compose myself. 

“Oh, for real?” She asks. 

I nod and bite the inside of my mouth, trying to pry the words from my mouth and get back on the horse, or whatever. 

“Okay, yeah. This was fun.” a smile forms as she sits back. 

“Do you, um, wanna come with, or?” I keep my eyes down. 

That felt really juvenile but...it’s been a while since I’ve done any of this, so. Gimme a break. 

“Yeah. I actually drove here, so, maybe I can pop by.” 

“Oh you drove here, you really aren’t from here, are you?” 

“Shut up, I’ll make you walk back.” 

We remain laughing, sliding out the booth. I slide a few bills to Ryan, the bartender, before leaving and he jokes (partially) that he’ll “see me soon”. And we’re off walking to Dua’s car- a prius of course, just when I thought she couldn’t give anymore tourist vibes. Anyway, let me stop being an asshole especially when I’m getting a free ride. We drive in semi comfortable silence, there’s a weird tension building I faintly recall from my younger days. I suppose it’s just called being horny. 

Dua pulls into a, usually taken, space in front of my apartment building. She turns the keys, lights turning off leaving us sitting in the dimly lit street for a second as I try to compose myself once more. 

“Am I good to park here?” She asks, looking over at the green parking sign. 

“Yeah, come on.” I say, getting my keys out of my jacket pocket. 

I fumble a little bit stepping out the car and I can hear Dua lock the car. Again, there’s that...that energy building up as she follows me to the door of the building. In the heat, and by that I mean anxiety, of the moment I drop my keys before I can even get it to the lock. Dua ducks down and picks my keys up, twirling them around her fingers and smirking as I sigh a little and chuckle. 

“Here.” 

She drops the keys into my hands and next thing I know we’re both sort of...staring at each other. In, you know...a sexy way (I hate that word). I feel my body push forward a little and suddenly we’re kissing. Kissing like...a lot. We’re kissing and pulling at each other up in the halls and stairwell up to my apartment door, nearly crashing thru the front door. 

So, sex is actually sort of nice. “Nice” meaning I forgot what it was like after being a holy child of God the past year or so. Definitely contemplated on if I should tell her that or not...I settled on not saying a peep, but it decided to roll off my tongue after we fell back into my bed. It wasn’t as humiliating as it sounds, she laughed at least. 

And...yeah...you understand what happened next. We have sex. 

ooOOooOOoooOOOoooOOooo

There we both lay hours later, she’s fast asleep and I’m wide awake feeling pretty wired. The street lamp by my window shines in softly as rain begins to fall. There’s a soft pitter patter around the room, my stupid messy room. I really gotta clean up after myself...eventually. 

I sit up and roll off the bed quietly, looking for my boxers I had flung across the room earlier. On my cluttered dresser they lay, like a scene of a crime. Pulling them on I find a clean white shirt in a drawer and make my way out into the kitchen, on the prowl for a late night snack. Sad little fridge hums lightly as I swing the door open and assess the inventory.

Nothing. Zip. Nada. Can’t say I’m shocked, it’s been two or so weeks since I’ve done actual grocery shopping. 

In defeat I stare blankly with my hand on my hip, eyes catching the tiny photos hung on the freezer door. Black and white photos, Zac and I laughing and kissing, tiny “Z” and “T” alphabet letters holding them in place. 

These were from our first month of dating. So, you know, a long time ago. 

“Hey.” a voice pulls me from my flashback. 

Dua stands there in the doorframe, wearing some oversized dirty band shirt she insisted on wearing from my floor. I give a nod as I close the fridge.

“Hungry?” she asks. 

“Ish.” I shrug. 

“We got something good?” She props herself against the counter. 

“It does not appear so, no.” I smize. 

“Ever go to Raul’s. They’re by here, they have somewhat adequate breakfast.” She suggested.

“Don’t you live in Astoria?” I ask, turning back to her. 

“Yeah. I like their french toast, though. Plus, it’s next to my yoga spot. So...” 

“So...you wanna go to breakfast? Now?” I scrunch. 

“Or, like, in the morning?” She snickers. 

“Okay, yeah, maybe.” I smile and nod. 

“Cool…”

She returns the smile and once more we are in a semi (more than last time though) comfortable silence as I tap the pink tiled countertop nervously. 

“I was trying to sneak out.” I blurt. 

“Yeah, I know.” She returns, arms folded against her chest. 

We both laugh at each other, more stuff being unfunny that makes it funny. She rolls her eyes playfully and I follow her back to my bedroom. We resume our unspoken sleeping spots, she faces me as I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling. 

Again, I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling her soft gaze while pulling the sheets up. She readjusts herself as I lay my arm out for her to snuggle up onto me. Her head lays on my chest- God knows the last time this happened. 

“Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.”

Slowly but surely my heart stops thumping fast, my chest softens with her whispered breaths of slumber. In a way, this is like a lullaby of sorts to me, with my eyes getting heavy as rain continues to pour outside.

Goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more coming soon I promise! stay safe and don't forget to drop a like hehe


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